Stay the Night
by StephanieWithAnA
Summary: This story happens after the series finale. What if Joey had stayed with Christopher instead of choosing Pacey? What would happen when she comes to Capeside to write? It's inspiredby the song, Stay the Night by Mariah Carey. Rated M for lemons, One part only


**Stay the Night**

I don't know how long I've been standing here staring at him. I just can't believe he's here. It doesn't make any sense.

"I was in the neighborhood."

He smiles at me and I just laugh...like a schoolgirl. It's embarrassing really. What the hell is wrong with me?  
"Do you wanna come in?" I finally manage to say.

"Yeah," he sighs. He sounds relieved. Did he really think I'd let him stand out there all night?

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything," he says slowly as his eyes scan the room. I know he's seen the candles, the fire, and the half-drunk bottle of wine on the coffee table.

"Oh no," I reply as I take his coat and hang it over the back of the recliner. "I'm just trying to get some work done."

I watch him as he saunters up to the fire and warms his hands for a moment. "Not done yet?"

I scoff, "Yeah right. If I'm here then I must be experiencing some kind of writer's block. There's no way I'd come back to Capeside to finish this book unless this was my only option."

He turns to face me and gives me one of those killer smiles. "You act like it's so bad."

His smile nearly knocks me off my feet. I cross the room and with a shaky hand, raise a glass of wine to my lips. Before I can even get a sip, he's there. "You didn't answer my question."

I look away and gulp down what's left in my glass. "I didn't realize it was a question," I pop off.

"You're such a smart ass."

"As I recall," I pause to refill my glass, "you always liked my ass."

Before I even have a chance to take the first drink, he's pulling it from my hands. "I did. And you're right, it wasn't really a question."

I watch as he drinks from my glass. I openly stare at his throat and the way it moves when he swallows. I sigh when he licks his lips and moves to pour another glass. "It's not that bad...here in Capeside, I mean. It must mean something to me or else I wouldn't be able to draw so much strength from it."

He hands me the glass and asks, "And that's the only reason? You need a safe haven to do your writing? It doesn't have anything to do with..."

I turn my back to him. "Of course not," I lie. "Not everything is about you, Pace."

I can't feel him. But I know he's there. And moreover, I know he's about to touch me. I can't stand the way that thrills me. I hate it. I hate him. I cant believe how weak I am. "So I should go?"

He's right behind me. I can't turn and face him. The look in my eyes will betray me. Hell know I'm dying to kiss him. You don't have to, I squeak.

I cringe at the sound of my own voice. Why do I do this to myself? I didn't catch that, he whispers into my ear. But he's right behind me. I can smell him, feel him. I know he heard me. It's a game. He wants me to turn around.

"I said…" That's all I can get out before his lips descend upon mine. I did it. I turned around and now I'm right where he wants me... in his arms.

"You feel good," he whispers as his hands slide under my sweater, around my stomach, and up my back.

I bite my lower lip in anticipation when I feel his fingers fumbling with my bra. I squeeze my eyes closed and pray for the strength to tell him no. I can't do this. I have to say something...I have to stop him.

"You feel good, too," I murmur.

I'm so weak. I start pulling at his shirt, trying to untuck it from his pants as he lifts the sweater over my head. My bra straps are falling from my shoulders and he makes short work of discarding the flimsy garment. As soon as it's gone, my hands are buried in his hair, tugging him down and forcing him to suck my nipples. He doesn't fight me. Why would he? It's want we both want.

I shiver when he pulls his mouth from my breast. The cold air on my wet skin causes my nipples to instantly harden. His eyes scan my face. He's waiting for me to say no, to say something to stop him. But he should know better. Have I ever stopped him before? He smiles slightly before lifting me off my feet and carrying me to the fireplace. Gently, he places my half-naked body on the soft rug. I gaze up at him and he slowly removes his shirt. He's killing me. I'm gonna die of anticipation...I just know it.

I open my mouth to say...what, I don't know. But before a rational thought can form in my mind, he's there. Right there on top of me. He's settling between my thighs, his erection pressing insistently against me, letting me know what's hiding behind that zipper.

Now we're rocking together, like a couple of teenagers who are too scared to go all the way. We're getting ourselves so worked up that I'm scared to death I'll get there before it actually happens. What would he think about that? Would he know that grinding fully clothed with him is a thousand more times more thrilling than the sex I have with Christopher?

Oh fuck.

I said it. I thought it. I'm not supposed to be thinking about him right now. The only thing I can think about is my release and getting him naked. He won't take all of his clothes off. He never does. He's teasing me now because he knows I won't hold out much longer. I need him. I want him naked.

I roll us over, so I can be on top. I only take a second to look into his eyes and watch the shadows from the flames as they dance across his chest. I can't look any longer than that, because if I do, I'll see the sadness that hides behind the lust in his eyes. I know where that sadness comes from and more importantly, who caused it.

But it wasn't my fault.

I try not to think about that day as I begin removing his jeans. I squeeze my eyes closed as that haunting image of him standing at the back of the church comes creeping into my mind. Why did he come? Why didn't he stop me?

I can't think about that now. I don't want to think at all. I feel his hands on my chest, gliding up to my face. He holds me in those big hands of his and whispers, "Jo."

I don't wanna open my eyes. I can't see that look in his eyes. I don't wanna talk about how wrong this is. I don't need to give him a reason to leave.

"Clothes off," I mutter as I fumble with his zipper.

He sits up a little, making it even harder for me to get him naked. I look at his face, at the words forming on his lips and I instantly crush my mouth to his. I don't want him to speak. I need him here with me tonight. That's why I came, after all.

You keep saying stay the night

Just let me rock you till the morning light

The kiss starts out soft and tender, but it doesn't stay that way for long. His hands are no longer on my face. Now he's pulling at the button on my jeans. He pulls so hard that my zipper comes right down and it feels like he's about to rip them off of me. He's angry. I can feel it. And what's worse...I like it. He knows I won't stop this and talk about all those things we should be talking about. I'm too selfish for that. I want him. And I won't break up my marriage to be with him.

No wonder he hates me.

After some clumsy fumbling, we're both naked. I lower my head and make a trail of kisses that leads straight to where I know he wants me to go. It's amazing how much power a woman has over a man when she holds his cock in her mouth.

"Oh God," he whispers as I let my lips engulf him. I feel his hands in my hair. He won't put them on my head. He knows I don't need any guiding and he doesn't trust himself not to hurt me. But he's getting close. I feel his fists tighten around the strands of my hair. I wonder how much longer he'll let me go before he begs me to stop. It's a sweet torture thats all too familiar.

"Please."

That's all it takes. I know I have to stop. I let him go and peer up at him. He's reaching for my waist, forcing me to crawl up his body. His lips latch onto my nipple for a moment, then he's kissing my stomach, and squirming underneath me. It's a minute or two before I realize what he's doing. My ass is in his hands and his mouth is between my legs. I fall forward, my hands resting on the cold floor in front of me. I resist pressing my full weight down onto him. I don't want to smother him. But he squeezes my ass and guides me. I'm grinding down onto his mouth, his tongue, and those lips. We've never done it this way before, but I like it.

Hell, I like everything he does to me.

He's found my spot and not letting up. All I need is to feel him inside me. And as soon as I think about it, I feel his fingers. He presses two inside me and I call out his name.

"Oh God, Pace."

My back arches and my toes curl. It's coming and all I can do is let it. Wave after wave slams into me, causing my whole body to convulse. I try to hold my body up, but I'm going limp. When he slides down a little further and I know I'm not on him anymore, I let myself go. I rest my face against the soft rug, but as soon as I feel his hands on my hips, I know that this is no time for a nap.

He's raising my backside, getting me into position for what's about to come next. I feel his erection barely brushing against my ass. With what little strength I have left, I raise up on my elbows. He's teasing me and I don't want to wait.

I back into him, taking him by surprise. I hear him gasp as the full length of him slides into me. He moans softly and I know it feels as good for him as it does for me. I begin to rock, setting the pace, but he's not having it. He grips my hips roughly and stills my needy body. With one fluid stroke, he pulls almost completely out of me and before I can protest, he's slamming right back in again.

"Oh yes," I groan.

He speeds up and then slows down again. Over and over, he tortures me. And as soon as I think I know what's about to come next, he surprises me. God, I love that.

Out of nowhere, he pulls out and turns me over. I gaze up at him, trying to read his expression. His brow is furrowed; he's concentrating on his performance instead of just enjoying himself. Doesn't he know it's always good?

I reach between us and grasp him roughly. I don't know what he's thinking about right now, but I want to remind him that he came here to feel good. We both did.

His eyes start to drift closed as I stroke him with my hand. I guide him back to where he belongs. Back inside of me. That's where he should always be. The place he should have never left.

His eyes open and it's almost like he knows what I'm thinking. His expression turns to stone as he pulls my hand away from his cock and he pins both hands above my head. He holds me down as he fucks me. Yeah, he's fucking me now. It's rough and it's dirty. He whispers to me all those things he can't say when were being pleasant to each other.

He buries his entire length deep inside me as he grinds against my clit. He wants to hurt me. He wants to pound into me so hard I'll cry. I bet he thinks that's what I deserve for what I've done.

"I'm sorry," I murmur.

He doesn't know what I'm thinking, what I meant, but it's almost like he does. He releases my wrists and lowers his face to mine. He slides his hands under my ass and we grind together slowly. The tension builds as he kisses my face, my neck, and whispers into my ear.

"I love you."

I blink back tears. I hate when he does this. It's just supposed to be sex. It's just supposed to be something to make us both forget how much the real world sucks. We have this place to run to when real life gets us down. This isn't supposed to be about us falling in love.

Like we ever stopped loving each other in the first place.

I wrap my arms around him and hold him tightly. Every time were together, we both swear its the last. I try to keep my orgasm at bay, but it's so hard. I don't want this to end and yet it always does. I cry out as my climax hits. He leans back, wanting to look at me. He wants me to see him, too. He wants me to look into his eyes when it hits him.

We continue rocking together, our bodies slick with sweat. He rests his head against my chest and I stroke his face. I can't believe how much I love this man. I can't believe that this is all we have.

He looks up at me. "I should go."

It breaks my heart. He hasn't even pulled out of me yet and he's ready to go.

"Joey…"

"Please?" I plead. I know he can't say no to me. If he could, he wouldn't be here right now.

He sighs and I give him my best pout. Slowly he nods and I smile. He moves to lie behind me and we curl up together. I gaze at the fire knowing that he won't be here in the morning when I wake up.

But just once...I'd like for him to stay the night.

**The End**


End file.
